


Of a Friendship Forged Early

by Talvenhenki



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canonical Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Grieving, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Minor Character Death, fading
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:06:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25389517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talvenhenki/pseuds/Talvenhenki
Summary: After Elros' death, Elrond spirals into deep depression and it is only thanks to Erestor that Elrond does not fade.A breaking point, or the beginning of the healing process.
Relationships: Elrond Peredhel & Erestor
Comments: 12
Kudos: 35





	Of a Friendship Forged Early

**Author's Note:**

> Look, Erdariel gave me ideas and we all know what happens when Erdariel gives me ideas. I should have been sleeping an hour ago but nope, had to write this.
> 
> No proofreading, we die like men.

Pale grey eyes stared into the distance. Erestor wasn’t sure how long it had been – time had lost its meaning to him on the fourth night – only that it had been long. Too long. With each passing minute, Elrond felt more distant to Erestor and so did the chances of Elrond surviving. He had been eating less and less, only a few bites each time Erestor offered him food. Elrond’s breaths were thin on his lips, barely audible, and his skin was ashen.

Erestor was at his wits’ end.

“Please come back, my friend”, Erestor whispered like he’d done too many a time these past weeks. “You are stronger than this, Elrond. Please come back. Do not fade; it is not your time yet.”

As usual, his words were met with silence. It was the first time Erestor had truly seen someone fade – he was too young to remember what had passed at Sirion and right after it. He hadn’t seen anyone suffer like Elrond; although, perhaps, there was no one who would quite understand Elrond’s pain. Siblings had been lost before, sure, but had anyone lost a twin as close as Elros had been to Elrond? Had anyone survived losing their last remaining friend in the whole world?

Erestor already knew the answer. It made him feel sick; was he truly doomed to lose his dear friend?

“At least try to eat”, Erestor breathed. He managed to feed Elrond a few mouthfuls of the broth he’d learnt from his parents – the secret broth to cure all wounds. Whether they were of the soul or of the body, the broth would cure the cruellest of wounds.

Erestor drank the rest of the broth. He drew a warm quilt over Elrond’s shoulders and rubbed some warmth into Elrond’s cold hands. Wiping his own eyes, Erestor almost missed it.

Elrond blinked.

Another blink made Elrond’s eyes glisten, and the third had a few tears rolling down on his pale cheeks. A sound – somewhere above a breath but below a sigh – escaped his lips as life returned to him.

“Oh, my friend”, Erestor said softly as Elrond leaned forward, trying to hide his eyes – his face. Erestor caught him into an embrace, holding Elrond as the first sobs wracked through his malnourished frame. “I have you, Elrond. I have you and I will not leave until I know for sure that you are well enough to go about your daily life.”

Sobs soon turned into cries. Elrond was like a wounded animal in his pain, trying to hide the wound, but unable to keep quiet. He was shaking from the torrent of emotions coursing though him, from having his heart broken in two. His hands were clawing at his chest, trying to rip out the wounded organ, to cleanse his body of the venom of pain.

“He’s gone”, Elrond gasped, uncharacteristically loud. “Elros is gone. Elros has gone where I can’t follow. I’ve lost him, Erestor. I’ve lost him!”

The desperation in Elrond’s voice fractured Erestor’s heart. He had never in his life known such pain, not even second-hand, and to see his friend barely hanging onto his own life was a pain almost too great for Erestor. If one elf was to be spared of such pain, it should have been Elrond.

Erestor lost his balance trying to support Elrond, and they fell down on the floor. Elrond was gasping for breath, calling out to Elros every now and then, and new tears made their way down his face. He was curling and uncurling his fingers as life returned to them as well.

“I know”, Erestor whispered. “Oh, my friend, I know. I have you now.”

Erestor managed to sit up and help Elrond into a more comfortable position as well. Elrond curled up into a ball so tight that had Erestor not known that Elrond was an elf, he could have not known who or what it was that was trembling like that.

Eventually the cries died down. Elrond was still trying to breathe, trying to grasp the fact that he had – against all odds – returned to his body. All this time, Erestor held his hand, gently guarding him as he steadied himself once again.

“Welcome back, my friend”, Erestor said, smiling at Elrond. “I have missed you.”

Elrond nodded shakily. He wasn’t out of danger – not by any way – but, at that moment, he was alive once again. Erestor embraced him to show him some support and, in addition, his unwavering friendship. Elrond returned the embrace, seeking comfort which had been given to him too rarely.

“How long?” Elrond asked quietly. “How long has it been?”

“I do not know for sure”, Erestor answered, shaking his head. “I lost count on the fourth night. I would estimate three weeks at least, a month at most. You have been ill. Very ill. We thought we’d lost you.”

“You didn’t”, Elrond breathed, “you haven’t lost me…what do you mean by ‘we’?”

“Me, his highness Ereinion, and a few others”, Erestor said. “Only our most trusted friends know that you’ve been ill. His highness personally came to see you when he heard of your rapid decline. He understood immediately what had happened.”

Elrond lowered his eyes in shame. It was not uncharacteristic for _eldar_ to spiral into deep depression after a loved one’s passing, but Elrond was not any elf. He was a _peredhel_ , half-elf who always had to compensate for his half-human side. Even though he had chosen immortality, he was ostracised by most of the others, only having found friendship within Erestor and some other scribes in Gil-Galad’s court.

He felt shame for a trait any other elf could have exhibited freely.

“Do not blame yourself for it”, Erestor said sternly. “You knew he would pass eventually. Your close bond was a gift that only a few have. Any expression of feeling in the face of such a bond breaking is as natural as breathing is to us. Do not feel shame for it, my friend.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Elrond nodded. He grabbed Erestor’s hand for comfort as he lifted his glistening eyes up to face Erestor’s understanding gaze.

“Stay?” Elrond asked softly. “Just for tonight. Please stay until I know I’m alive.”

Erestor found he couldn’t refuse such a plea.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments will be cherished and appreciated!


End file.
